Radiance
by crackbabybaseketball
Summary: He looked absolutely radiant, completely above him; a warmth he would never get to feel if he didn't reach out to it.


At some point during the night, in the midst of their adventures getting high at Stark's Pond, Craig and Clyde had somehow unanimously agreed that it would be the _absolute greatest most awesome idea ever _to go "midnight skinny-dipping." Clyde guessed he could have written it off as being on on drugs, but honestly, if he thought about it, he couldn't really guarantee that they would have come up with anything smarter sober.

Neither of them had the balls to do it in the pond, for fear of whatever mutated aquatic life lie in wait for them, but they did decide it would be just as easy to jump the fence to the public pool.

They stood there now, having just pulled off the pool cover, and just stared blankly at the still water, apprehensive, as if staring down a wild animal set to attack at any moment.

"Maybe Stark's wouldn't have been that much worse after all," Craig said suddenly, mumbling as he looked down at the pool. "Now I just feel like I'm about to jump head first into First Grader pee."

Clyde kept looking down, too preoccupied with the water to even giggle uncontrollably at the comment. "Nah, man. I mean, like... there's chlorine or... whatever. Isn't it supposed to... keep it clean?"

He heard Craig grunt slightly before they both returned to silence. After a while, a vague rustle made Clyde turn towards his friend. A hot blush immediately rose to his cheeks when he saw Craig undoing his jeans, already shirtless, with his top carelessly thrown to the side a few feet away from him.

"Well, come on, man," Craig grumbled, letting his pants drop down and kicking them aside as well, standing there in just his boxers. "We came all the way here." He threw a quick smirk at Clyde, before he shot off and jumped into the pool with a loud splash. Clyde hadn't realized he was staring until Craig left his vision so quickly. The brunet shook his head slightly, trying to focus on the situation at hand, and looked back at the pool just in time to see a mop of black hair bob back out of the water.

"Fuck!" Craig shouted, raking the hair out of his eyes. "It's fuckin' cold!" He started laughing to himself, and he looked up at Clyde with a raised eyebrow. "Hey, stay with me, Smokey. Don't fuckin' puss out on me now, otherwise I'm pulling you in here with all your clothes on."

Clyde blinked a couple times, still having trouble staying focused, although he was unaware if it was still the weed working or not. "Um, sorry," he answered, stuttering slightly. He reached up awkwardly to grab the back of his collar, pulling off his shirt with surprising ease. His pants took a little more work. Fumbling fingers couldn't seem to find the button or zipper very well, and when they finally started working he suddenly realized how fucking cold it was. It was still late summer, but at midnight in the mountains that meant fuck all. He shivered, letting his pants fall down around his ankles. He looked down at Craig, who was still looking back at him expectantly. Clyde took a deep breath before jumping in.

Upon meeting with the cold water, Clyde immediately felt himself sober up for only a brief flash of time before the extreme temperature halted his thoughts to a grueling trudge yet again. It was kind of exhilarating, the feeling you got from jumping into cold water. It reminded him of when his parents used to take him on lake trips when he was younger, and the split second after jumping in the lake when the cold completely enveloped him, bringing a fleeting moment of not being sure he would be able to move and swim back up to the surface. But then, as quickly as it went, it was replaced with entirely too much feeling. The pins and needles struck him to his core as he began to pull himself up to the surface. When he broke, it was with a loud gasp for air, followed by nonsensical laughter, and when he looked up and found Craig he was laughing too.

"Jesus," Clyde giggled, the cold very gradually leaving his body as he tread the water. "This was a stupid fucking idea."

"Yeah," Craig replied, chuckling. "And I'm, like, way too fucking high to actually wanna swim. Who's idea was this again?"

"It was totally yours, man."

"Bullshit. This has 'Clyde' written all over it."

They argued playfully for a while before their laughter made them forget what they were even talking about to begin with, and for the next several minutes they just tread back and forth between the deep and shallow ends, speaking about any stupid little thing that crossed their minds. Clyde wasn't really that into weed, but this was one of the things he liked about it. He liked that they could play and laugh like when they were eight, without questioning it or second-guessing themselves out of embarrassment. He liked how he could just forget about all the stupid troubles in his life.

He liked how he and Craig could be together like this. Just the two of them. And not a care in the world.

He wasn't sure how long it was before his phone rang, almost forgotten within the pockets of his discarded jeans, but as he sat on the steps of the pool, the personalized ringtone hit his ears with the force of a ton of bricks, and he looked towards the sound and froze. The ring was a song he had chosen himself, but he couldn't remember the name of it now. But it was some cheesey pop song horribly overplayed on the radio, something about love and a perfect storybook ending, and it was all the things that he wished he wasn't hearing right now.

"Don't answer it."

Clyde looked over at Craig in surprise, who was treading water in the middle of the pool, staring down his friend. The song still played vaguely in the background. Clyde tried to swallow, only to realize how dry his mouth suddenly was. "It's Red." He stated lamely.

"I know who it is." Craig answered back, furrowing his brow. "Don't answer it."

"But what if-"

"No." Craig interrupted tone level and firm. "Red's a fucking cunt. You don't need to talk to her. Just forget it."

Before Clyde could argue, the song was cut short, indicating that the call was sent to voicemail. He looked back, slightly crestfallen, and he heard Craig sigh from across the pool.

"Don't look like that," Craig grumbled, and Clyde could hear him swimming towards the deep end. "You told me to help you with this. So that's what I'm doing."

Clyde looked back at him to see that he had reached the other edge and was resting at the wall, not looking at him. "I know," Clyde called back, feeling defeated. He started to make his way across the pool to meet back with Craig. "I just-"

"You just what?" Craig interrupted again, his annoyed tone cutting Clyde a little deeper than it should have. He leaned back against the edge of the pool, laying his arms on the side to keep his head above water. "Look, Clyde, Red's a fucking bitch. She was manipulative, and used you to get what she wanted. She doesn't give a shit about you. God knows what kind of booty call she's trying to arrange in the middle of the goddamn night. It's not worth it."

"I know," Clyde sighed loudly. He stopped a few feet in front of Craig, treading water. "I just... wanted to see what she needed."

Craig just scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Right. And then when you come crying back to me after you run off with her and she decides to fuck with you again, I'm supposed to feel bad?"

There was a little venom in his voice, and Clyde furrowed his brow in confusion, feeling taken aback by this reaction. He faltered in trying to find the right words to say, before finally deciding on, "I wouldn't have gone anywhere with her. If that's what she wanted."

Craig raised an eyebrow. "Bullshit."

Clyde pouted slightly. "I'm not lying."

"Then why did you even want to pick up in the first place?"

"I- I don't know, man. It's fucking complicated. But I wouldn't have gone with her."

"Oh yeah?" Craig looked at him accusingly, still looking unconvinced, and the glare made Clyde's chest tighten. "Why wouldn't you have?"

"Because this is more important!" As soon as he realized what he blurted out, Clyde felt his ears grow hot, and he quickly looked down at the water before he could see Craig's reaction.

There was a long pause before he finally heard Craig mutter, "Sorry. I was just trying to help."

Neither one of them moved or spoke for a very long time, and Clyde could only continually curse himself as he kept treading water in front of Craig. The longer the air remained pregant with silence, the longer Clyde became immersed in his own thoughts, and he could suddenly remember the part he didn't like about weed. Maybe there was just something wrong with him, but towards the end of a night of being high or drunk he would always hit a wall. It was when all his broken and muddled thoughts would suddenly catch up to him, coming at him all at once and smothering him. The cold water, previously almost completely forgotten, was now entirely too present. The chill rattled him to the bone, and with it only brought thoughts of doubt and regret.

He wished he hadn't even come out tonight. He wish he didn't smoke just to fit in with his friends. He wished he wasn't such a fucking sensitive little crybaby about everything. He wished he could for once form a decent, normal relationship with someone.

He was so pathetic.

"Hey." Craig's voice startled Clyde slightly, and he looked back up at him to find his friend's expression significantly softer than when he had last seen it. "What's wrong with you?"

Clyde almost replied with "nothing," but he couldn't get it out past the lump in his throat. He tried to swallow it down, and eventually croaked out, "I just need to stop fuckin' smoking."

"You look like you're shaking."

Clyde laughed dryly as he realized that, yes, he was currently shaking like a fucking leaf. "It's fuckin' cold, man."

"That's because you're just sitting there like an idiot," Craig replied, just as dryly. "If you're really that cold, come over here."

Clyde wasn't sure if he was misunderstanding Craig's intentions or if was really as open an invitation as it sounded. At this point, Clyde didn't even care. His head was way too bogged down with everything else to possibly decipher what Craig was saying, or what the look in his eyes meant, or why his cheeks were slightly flushed. All Clyde knew was that he was fucking freezing, and that right now Craig looked absolutely radiant, completely above him; a warmth he would never get to feel if he didn't reach out to it.

Clyde swam a closer to him, until they were almost touching. When Craig didn't move, Clyde pulled his arms out of the water to wrap them around his friend's neck, extending them over the side of the pool. Craig still hadn't moved as their faces became level with one another, or when Clyde carefully touched their foreheads together.

Clyde tried looking into his eyes for a moment, but then quickly closed his own as another flash of doubt crept up on him. He took a deep breath in, the scent of chlorine and Craig flooding his senses. Their chests were touching now, and the water was still frigid and unforgiving but the warmth coming from Craig felt so good; it was impossible and too good to be true.

"You're still shaking." It was only when Craig let the whisper escape his lips that Clyde realized exactly how close their mouths were.

Clyde's chest tightened, and an odd warmth began to form in the pit of his stomach. "I'm still cold," he replied quietly.

Clyde gently brought their lips together, still preparing for Craig to back down at any moment. But Craig didn't move, and even returned the kiss gratefully.

Clyde's head reeled as their lips moved together. It was awkward, ridiculous, and absolutely stupid. It was perfect.

Almost perfect.

As Craig's tongue teased itself along Clyde's bottom lip, the brunet pulled away slightly.

Fuck. It was so, agonizingly close to being perfect. But Craig was so clear and beautiful, and Clyde's thoughts were still so broken and ugly. Warmth was coming from Craig's every pore, and Clyde was just... cold.

Craig, thankfully, didn't seem put off by Clyde's hesitation, and even seemed to be able to read it better that Clyde himself. "The pool was a stupid idea." Craig stated flatly. He finally pulled his arms down from the edge, dipping them back down to wrap around the brunet's chest. He rested his face in the crook of his neck and sighed. "We should go home."

Clyde buried his face in Craig's wet hair, sniffling slightly. "Yeah," he muttered, sounding little pitiful.

The was a long pause between the two of them before Craig finally spoke up again. "Do you, uh, wanna go see a movie or something tomorrow? Afterwards you can come to my house and we can... you know. Do whatever."

In spite of himself, Clyde smiled and laughed quietly. He still shivered slightly as he took a deep breath in, but it had gotten better.

It was getting a little warmer.

"Yeah."


End file.
